


A Mighty Grasp of the Real

by jesterlady



Series: Post Roswell [1]
Category: Roswell (TV 1999)
Genre: Alien/Human Relationships, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Het Relationship, Communication, Confessions, Conflict Resolution, Conversations, F/M, Honesty, One Shot, Post-Canon, Post-Season/Series 03, Road Trips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-12
Updated: 2019-03-12
Packaged: 2019-11-16 00:17:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18083711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jesterlady/pseuds/jesterlady
Summary: "We’re overdue for a really long, gut wrenching, emotional conversation that will likely end in one of us murdering the other.”





	A Mighty Grasp of the Real

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Roswell. The title is by Roden Noel.

They drove for three days straight before they let themselves stop for anything other than food and bathroom breaks, the urgent need of escaping capture high on everyone’s minds. It didn’t take long to work out a system of driving, navigating, planning, and sleeping, everyone responsible for something most of the time. Max took the first shift driving, Liz beside him in the front seat, but not before Michael took everyone’s IDs and altered them for brand new identities, this time giving everyone non-alcohol related names. Isabel gathered up the money everyone had on them and what Valenti had slipped Kyle when they said goodbye and changed the denominations to give them more spending money, which even Max seemed okay with the morality of given the circumstances. He took care of changing the make and color and license plate of the van, something they did again every time they stopped. Michael and Isabel exhausted themselves for the first hour or so of driving, erasing the tire tracks behind the van.

They left behind cellphones, credit cards, and anything they thought could be used to track them. Most of them didn’t have much of their stuff except for Michael, though at least he had all the alien paraphernalia. Max and Liz had packed some essentials and hidden them in the desert in preparation for leaving so they had more than the others. The stark reality was that everyone was leaving with less than what they had lived with their whole lives and only had each other. Granted, that was what was most important, but it was still daunting.

They were all afraid as they drove, though once they left New Mexico, Michael let his shoulders un-tense a little. There wasn’t much conversation other than the quiet murmurs between Max and Liz or Maria complaining about something or quietly singing to herself when she was the one driving. It was as if everyone had put everything on hold until they found out whether or not they were going to be safe. Road trips didn’t leave much room for anything but talking but with six people in the van, it also meant there was zero privacy. Now that she was suddenly back in his life and it seemed like they were together, though with her on again/off again tendencies this last year he wasn’t entirely sure they were, Michael did a whole lot of thinking about Maria and realized that they needed to have a long put off talk but he couldn’t do it yet.

They’d driven almost all the way across the United States and back and were somewhere in Washington when Michael pulled up at a cheaper but not disgusting motel and everyone got out of the van and looked at each other for a moment.

“Which one of us smells the best?” Maria asked bluntly. “Because that’s who needs to book the rooms.”

Everyone unanimously looked at Isabel who rolled her eyes.

“Fine, I’ll do it. I’ve got the money anyway.”

While she went inside everyone took the opportunity to stretch their legs. It had been a few hours since they’d stopped to eat at a diner and, without having to say it, Michael knew all of them were sick to death of the van. He glanced sideways at Maria but she was busy talking to Liz.

When Isabel came back she had three room keys. She handed one to Maria, one to Liz, and kept one for herself. Michael raised an eyebrow at her.

“What, guys sleep in the van?” he questioned.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she said. “You and Maria are sharing, so are Max and Liz. I figured Kyle and I could take the room that has two beds in it.” Kyle blushed bright red, but simply nodded. “I would have tried to do a guys and girls thing but this is just as cheap and the rooms aren’t that big.”

“So long as I get a shower,” Maria said, pushing ahead of all of them. “You coming, Spaceboy?” she called behind her.

Michael sighed and followed her into their room. He’d wanted to get her alone, so he figured this would do. They dumped their stuff and she headed straight into the bathroom.

“Don’t take all the hot water,” he told her before she shut the door.

She made a face at him and disappeared behind the door and he heard the sound of running water start. Right now he was the only one with semi-clean clothes and she was wearing one of his shirts. He lay back on the bed and tried to enjoy the feeling of lying on something that wasn’t the seat of a van. He closed his eyes and began to imagine what he wanted to say to Maria. After all, they were truly stuck together now and what she’d given up by coming was more meaningful to him than probably anyone because he’d already done that for her. He wanted to tell her that but he sucked at words and emotions and anything like that and so he usually practiced it over and over in his head ahead of time.

He was so tired though, he’d been driving the last stretch so it had been a while since he’d slept, sleep in the van not being the greatest anyway, and before he knew it, Maria was shaking him by the shoulder.

“Your turn,” she said. “Go get clean before you sleep and make the bed disgusting.”

He didn’t want to move but he heaved himself off the bed and grabbed his bag before heading into the bathroom and turning on the shower. It was still blessedly hot but he could tell it would cool quickly and so he didn’t linger. He didn’t really want to test his powers out on keeping the water warm and he did want to sleep soon even though he felt a lot better after his little catnap and now with the water coursing down his back.

When he got out he put some sweatpants on but didn’t bother with a shirt and rubbed a towel through his hair as he stepped back into their room.

She looked up from the bed where she was flipping through the channels and he was suddenly struck by the memory of the first night they’d spent in a bed together. Both of their hair had been wet then, too, and she was wearing a tank top similar to what she had on then. Of course, he’d been a broken mess at the time, completely vulnerable in a way he’d never dared let himself be in his entire life before that. She looked at him the same way now as if she knew what he was thinking and he let himself really feel his connection to her for a moment.

“Feel better?” she asked. He nodded wordlessly and dropped the towel before moving to sit next to her on the bed. She wrinkled her nose at the action but didn’t comment for once. “Me too.”

“Thanks for leaving some hot water,” he said.

“Next time we should just go together and that way we guarantee it,” she said.

He smirked.

“I guess we could do that.”

“In the meantime, Max dropped by and said he wanted us all to meet up tomorrow morning for breakfast and to figure out our next step,” she told him, flicking off the tv and stretching, and he tried to ignore the way it pulled her shirt up.

“Sounds good,” he said and decided he’d never get a better opening. “I was thinking the same thing.”

“See, you two do agree on things,” she told him.

“I meant, I want to figure out our next step,” he said.

Her eyes widened and she looked panicked for a moment before her face settled into a very determined expression he was all too familiar with.

“You are not shutting me out, Michael Guerin, not when I gave up everything for you.”

“Would you calm down?” he said. “Geez, I didn’t say anything like that.”

“You have,” she shot back.

“Yeah, well, so have you,” he retorted. “And most recently. I know I’m the loser and the jerk, but you, you’ve messed up pretty badly yourself when it comes to us, princess, so let’s stop the ‘everything is Michael’s fault’ crap before it starts.”

She glared at him before sighing.

“Fine, what did you want to talk about?” she asked.

“You’re right most of the time,” he told her only somewhat reluctantly. “We need to talk and figure out who we are and I’ve run out of excuses and places to run and destinies to hide behind.”

She stared at him and he liked that he’d made her shut up.

“Okay,” she said, her voice cracking. “Because I’d really like that.”

“We’re, we’re overdue for a really long, gut wrenching, emotional conversation that will likely end in one of us murdering the other,” he said, and he was only half-joking. “Anything we’ve ever done has usually been through actions or gestures or flashes and because I was leaving. So…we should try words.”

“Even though you suck at that,” she said, looking at him like she didn’t even know him.

“Even though,” he said, already dreading it.

There was a pause and then she looked determined again.

“Okay, ground rules,” she said. “We’re gonna get mad cause we always get mad.”

“A given,” he said. “What’s your point?”

“No going off in a huff,” she said. “We stay until we really know what the other person means and until we settle this. I think half our problem is because we never finish an argument. We just have sex or leave, acting like it never happened. So now we finish the conversation if it kills us.”

He thought about it and she was right. In fact it was probably usually him who ran away from the conversation, but not tonight. Tonight he had to stay.

“I promise,” he said and she leaned forward, smiling, giving him a quick peck on the cheek.

“Well, where do you want to start?” she asked, shifting so that they were facing each other fully.

Where did he want to start? They had years of explanations they owed each other and he didn’t think it could all be covered in one conversation.

“Maybe, maybe we start with anything and move on from there,” he said. He took her hand and started with what he’d been practicing while she was in the shower. “I meant what I said when I said goodbye. I know neither of us really did everything we could for this relationship but I don’t regret choosing it. Now that you’re here, I want it to…move forward. And I know if it’s going to happen, especially with our lives now, well, I guess it can’t stay the same way. We have to, I don’t know, be more honest and, well, give each other more.”

“I’ve died and gone to heaven,” Maria said, squeezing his hand. “Michael Guerin wants to be honest and giving with me.”

“I’m not joking,” he said, a little put out.

“I know,” she said, “and that’s the best part. Michael, that’s all I’ve ever wanted from you.”

“Well, I just didn’t know how,” he said, feeling a little sulky. “And you’d always look at me and talk constantly at me and I never felt like I knew what it was you so desperately wanted me to give you. It was like being told you had to win a game or something but no one ever explained the rules.”

“You could have asked,” she pointed out. 

“I did ask,” he said, and then sighed. “Maybe not with my words, but I wanted to know and I tried, but somehow I always felt like I just wasn’t good enough and I would never measure up to this picture of me you had in your head. A picture I could see in flashes but had no idea how to become. A picture you never bothered to explain. It was pretty depressing.”

“Oh,” she said, looking down at their joined hands. “I guess I can see that.”

He took advantage of her silence to speak words that for some reason he finally had the ability to say, to verbalize feelings that had been suffocating him for years. He’d said them in his head a thousand times so he had the words and now he had the courage to speak them.

“It was like you just expected me to know how to be this perfect boyfriend and that I was supposed to be…human. But, Maria, I’m never going to be human and you have to understand, I never wanted to be. You know…you know how I grew up and that my whole life I was different and so I spent my life searching to find where I belonged. I thought it was in the stars so I resisted anything other than that. So now, now I have not only a foster kid’s terrible social skills but an alien’s deliberate ignorance of humanity. The worst part was I didn’t even really realize it and nobody bothered to point it out with actual words. Max and Isabel, they were different. They tried and they blended in.”

“But not you,” she said and the look on her face was one of remembrance and he thought she must be thinking of the flashes he’d shared with her.

“No,” he whispered. “And I became an…an angry person who wanted to escape. And you show up and you make me feel different, like maybe being here isn’t so bad, maybe I have a place, maybe I can have a home here. Any love I have for Earth is your fault. I was angry at you for that and ashamed of it and scared of it. I was going to leave so why get attached?”

“It’s why you pushed me away at first,” she said. 

“Yeah, but you wormed your way back in and suddenly we were like a couple or something and then when I killed Pierce, I was terrified of who I was, that I could hurt you, and afraid you would see me as the monster I felt like I was and I couldn’t bear it.”

“So you broke up with me,” she said and she twisted her lips. “Which really hurt me.”

“It wasn’t about you,” he said.

“I know, but, Michael, you made me care about you and then just acted like it didn’t matter,” she said. “I deal with enough insecurity as it is and that made me feel worthless.”

“It was because you were too worthwhile,” he said and he believed that, but now he knew he’d been protecting himself as much as her. “I loved you and I think maybe I was selfish and cowardly, but it was too much to handle. I’d never had to deal with emotions like that before.”

“I guess I know the feeling,” she said. “What about after that? Why did you share the Granilith with me and invite me back in?”

“Well, it took a long story and conversation with a man who saved my life before I was even born to make me realize that shutting out the people you love just makes you miserable and alone,” he said, smiling in remembrance.

“But you pulled away again and Courtney and all that…” she said, old hurt in her eyes.

“I shouldn’t have kissed her,” he said bluntly. “It didn’t mean anything to me and I was trying to run away from you. I mean, I wanted you but I was still pretty rattled from everything that had happened and just the thought of trying to really have you on top of the alien stuff and my powers and being a murderer, well, it was too much.” He stopped and then figured he might as well be brutally honest with himself as well as her. “Maybe I was…flattered at her attention.” Maria scoffed and he rolled his eyes. “So not maybe. Anyway, it’s no excuse, but we weren’t together then.”

“Weren’t we?” she asked quietly.

“Maybe we were,” he said. “But not officially and it was stupid the way both of us didn’t address it.”

“I was afraid to ask because I didn’t want you to say no, we weren’t,” she said, fiddling with the bedsheets.

“I know,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

“At least we had our family road trip after that,” she said, smiling.

“It was fun playing rich people with you,” he admitted. “You were there for me with Laurie,” he continued. “Thank you for that.”

“But we fell back into old habits,” she said. “Just making out and nagging and stereotypes. Isn’t that the name of our band?”

“I can’t sing,” he said flatly.

“Oh, I know,” she answered, a classic expression of exasperation on her face.

He didn’t know what to say after that but he knew her career would have to come up sooner or later so he might as well bite the bullet with a sincere compliment.

“But you can,” he said. “I do love to hear you sing.”

“But you acted like it wasn’t anything,” she said, tearing up for a second. “It was everything to me and yet, it was like my dreams weren’t as important as an alien invasion.”

“If you put it like that…” he said and she glared at him. “No, I know. Okay, you are important and so is what you want. But while it may have sucked, the alien stuff was pretty important, too, you have to admit.”

“We saved the world a few times. I saved everyone from the Skins,” she said pointedly.

“You did,” he acknowledged. 

“You were there for me sometimes,” she said. “Like when Alex…” she stopped, biting her lip. “You were suddenly perfect and that scared me because it let me know what I would lose when you left.”

“Me too,” he said. “And that’s why when I did have to leave; I knew I couldn’t be scared anymore. I had to give you the only thing I could.”

“It was the best and worst night of my life,” she said, wiping away a tear. “But you stayed for me.”

“Only for you,” he said, kissing her hand quickly, affectionate gestures being his go to when he had no words. Yet he couldn’t hide behind them now so he kept talking. “I know we’ve talked about it a little bit, but I can’t tell you what a huge shift of mind that was for me. To choose Earth, to choose you. I had been running away and now I was staying put.”

“Which probably terrified you and turned you into a jerk,” she said, smiling a little. “Because we got into a pretty dull routine there for a while. I mean, you tried, but maybe not running for your life every other week was boring for you.”

“I kept failing in your eyes,” he said, ignoring her last comment, knowing they’d reached the point when he felt like the issues in their relationship had gone from being largely his fault to largely hers. “I have never tried so hard in my life and again I wasn’t good enough and I kept screwing up. That sucked and it sucked that you barely acknowledged what I was doing. You just kept wanting more.”

“And sometimes you didn’t remember that it was a person you stayed behind for, not an idea,” she shot back.

He stopped and processed that for a moment, shrugging.

“Maybe, I don’t know. But other than you being happy I made friends, it felt like the life I had stayed for wasn’t exactly the magical life I’d hoped it would be, because I could never do anything right for you.”

“And it felt like I was suffocating,” she said, pressing her free hand to her heart. “Because even though I loved you, I didn’t know if that was enough. The alien stuff never stopped coming and I had put everything on hold, everything.”

“I know,” he said. “But so did I.”

“But your destiny was always more important than mine,” she said. “I never asked for any of this, Michael, and I began to understand that being the only thing that makes a human life worth living is too much to ask of anyone.”

He blinked at her and realized she was right.

“I guess so,” he said. “That’s a lot of pressure.”

“I swear I didn’t know that when you stayed,” she said. “I was so happy you did, but it was like with the threat of leaving gone, I didn’t know how to process that I was now going to have a life with you. I think a small part of me was even disappointed because even though I got to have you, now I had to keep the alien whirlwind and that was going to be the only good thing about you leaving.”

That hurt to hear and he almost snapped something mean at her, like being away from her nagging was going to be the best thing about leaving, but he stopped himself.

From the look on her face she knew what he’d been about to say.

“That’s fair,” he said, dragging out the words. She shook her head at him. “But we thought the alien stuff was over.”

“It’s never over, Michael,” she said sadly. “We all know that really. We’re fooling ourselves if we think otherwise.”

“Maybe, but we were all doing our best to put it behind us,” he said. “Well, Max and Liz’s crime spree aside.”

“Best to always put that aside,” she agreed wryly. 

“I know I don’t really listen when you talk all the time,” he admitted, “but I still don’t think you ever actually told me you were unhappy. I mean the specific reasons. Not just that you wanted me to clean the sheets or eat lunch with you or something stupid like that.”

“It wasn’t stupid, Michael,” she said warningly.

“Fine, not stupid,” he said, but stuck to his point. “Did you tell me you wanted to sing or that you were afraid of aliens consuming our lives?”

“No, but I didn’t know,” she said. “I truly didn’t know until Billy pointed it out to me.” He stiffened at the mention of Billy, but he was determined not to say anything yet. She shifted uncomfortably and he could tell she was trying not to cry. “When Alex died so did a part of me and I didn’t even realize it. I had connected him to my music dreams without knowing it. I put them away and made you my new dream. But…but no person can be a dream, Michael. That’s not fair, not to either of us. And I didn’t even know that some part of me was probably doing it out of necessity, because my subconscious thought I couldn’t have both you and the music.”

“Turns out you can’t,” he said bitterly.

“That’s not entirely your fault,” she said graciously.

He didn’t acknowledge it, suddenly too wrapped up in jealousy and hurt now that they’d reached the point of the conversation he’d both been dreading and needing to have happen.

“And Billy?” he asked.

She nodded.

“Billy,” she simply repeated.

“Yeah, I think we need to talk about Billy and what happened after that,” he said harshly.

“I know I shouldn’t have kissed Billy and I know breaking up with you hurt you,” she said. “But I had to see, I had to know if a life outside of the whole alien thing was possible.”

“I’m never enough,” he muttered to himself.

She grabbed his head and lifted his chin so he looked at her.

“Don’t do that, Michael. Don’t wallow. You are enough for me. I gave up my whole life for you. Do you understand that?”

He pulled away from her, too angry to acknowledge the truth behind her words.

“What I understand is that I was emotionally vulnerable for the first time in my life and the person I love most kissed another guy and left me even when you said you wouldn’t.”

“You don’t get that pull that card, not after Courtney,” she said firmly.

He got a grip on his emotions and tried to avoid exploding anything in the room. She was right about that part even if he didn’t want to admit it.

“Maybe not,” he said. “Just, you know that I have never been able to express…I didn’t understand jealousy.” He struggled to find the words; he was way beyond what he’d practiced in his head. “I mean, it was a joke and stupid but Kyle nailed it when he said I should be feeling that. I did feel it. But you know how I felt it? My powers exploding everything in sight, completely out of control. I saw you singing with him and I blew out the window on every car I walked past on my way home. Right when Max’s dad was snooping into everything. I had to ask you to ask him to leave or I would’ve exposed everyone.”

“You didn’t even say that though,” she protested. “All you did was ask me to be patient and then demand that he leave. Which I did! I did that for you.”

“While making out with the guy,” he pointed out.

She got off the bed and stood with her hands on her hips and he wondered if she would storm out even though she’d been the one to insist on staying.

“You are the most infuriating man I’ve ever met. Stop bringing that up like you’ve never done it yourself!”

“I didn’t even know Courtney, you had feelings for him!” he said, standing up and using his height to full advantage.

Too bad she’d never actually been intimidated by that though.

“I had feelings for my past,” she yelled. “I had feelings for the girl I used to be, not for Billy, you idiot! I loved you when I broke up with you. I have never stopped loving you and I doubt I ever can. You want to talk about not being able to control feelings? Well, I love you so much sometimes it hurts like my whole body is going to explode. I know you know that, you can feel it when we make love so don’t try to act like I don’t.”

He stopped short because he did know that. The depth of their connection when they were making love or making out or even just sitting together on a couch sometimes made him want to explode himself. He’d never act like a lovesick idiot like Max over it, but he didn’t discredit it either. So he forced himself to focus on that and tell her what really hurt him, what the whole point of this conversation was for him.

“I can give you that,” he said, more calmly than he felt, “but you just walked away and you didn’t even try to explain it, not really. It took me a while to let go because you were all I had, the whole reason for my being on Earth, but I tried to help you get out if that was what you really wanted, to break that stupid cycle. The worst part was you expected me to still just be there any time you wanted something. Then you slept with me and I thought maybe it could be better and I vowed if you were giving me that second chance then I would do everything I could to keep you. But then you acted like it was nothing, even though I had decided I was going to change, try and be supportive of your dreams, try to give you what I thought you wanted from me. Even after you brushed me off again, you still came running to me. That…that was not okay. After I gave up everything for you…” he stopped, overwhelmed with the pain of the past. “Never mind that, under no circumstances would that have been okay.”

He felt unburdened then. Despite how badly he’d wanted to tell her that, he hadn’t even known how much that had hurt until he said it out loud. It felt good to be able to say it, to release that pain. Maybe talking wasn’t such a bad thing, after all. Maybe he should’ve listened to her years ago and tried it.

She stared at him for a moment, her eyes filled with unshed tears.

“I didn’t think…but I know,” she said. “I didn’t mean to, honestly, Michael. I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too,” he said, shrugging, even though he had a feeling that would always sting a bit. 

“No wonder you said what you said in the car that day,” she said, wiping her eyes.

“When?” he asked, confused.

“You know, when you were all trying to be the king,” she said, gesturing towards her head in a vague crown-like motion.

“I wasn’t exactly myself but I was…myself,” he said, remembering. “I shouldn’t have been so mean.”

“Well, I didn’t really have a right to get so angry about it afterwards,” she said. “I seem to do that, to get angry with you over perceived slights and not really listen to what you’re actually saying or what’s actually happening.”

He couldn’t believe she was finally acknowledging that.

“Yeah, well, I can be pretty oblivious myself,” he admitted.

“We just fell back into bad patterns really,” she said mournfully. “Though you did, you did apologize to me when you didn’t have to.”

“Well, it all went to hell after that,” he said. He hesitated and then asked. “What made you come back? You were freaking out that day in the desert.”

“I was,” she said. “Here I was trying to get out, but everyone I loved was being pulled back in, even my best friend would never be able to get out again.”

“Because the alien stuff is so horrible,” he said, folding his arms.

“Yes, Michael, the alien stuff we’ve dealt with is horrible,” she answered.

“I’m alien,” he said, pointing at himself angrily. “Am I horrible?”

“Sometimes,” she said, glaring. “But you know I don’t mean that. I just mean the circumstances that occurred because of your alien background not because you are an alien. Okay?”

“Fine,” he said, not really up to arguing the point and it wasn’t like he hadn’t said rotten things about humans for years. “Why did you come?”

“Well, Liz gave me a pep talk I sorely needed,” Maria admitted. “And you.”

“Me?”

“It was the perfect goodbye,” she said, giving him a half-smile. “I mean, other than the typical Guerin stunt of being emotionally vulnerable and then booking it before a girl gets a chance to respond. But it, it made me realize that I would regret it. I would regret never seeing you again, never kissing you or yelling at you or teasing you. And I knew that I had lost my chance and so without thinking about it…I knew.”

“Knew what?” he asked, unconsciously unfolding his arms.

“That if I ever saw you again I would never let you go,” she said. “That I was all in.”

Maybe he was too tired to process her words but they zinged around in his head anyway, making him feel speechless and somehow…honored.

“Well, good,” he said, shrugging one shoulder. “I’m glad you are.”

“And here we are,” she said, tilting her head. “So what’s next?”

He sighed, he was so tired, and they should have slept first before talking. He wanted nothing more than for this to be magically fixed, but he didn’t think that was possible. He was still beyond thrilled she was here, but he was nervous. Being with her meant he could screw it all up again and he’d had enough of that. He didn’t really know what she wanted from him.

“What do you want, Maria?” he asked. “I’m running low on being able to talk.”

“This is your conversation, buddy,” she pointed out.

“And it’s exhausting and I suck at it,” he snapped.

“You’re doing all right,” she said. “But don’t ruin it by being an ass.”

“Fine,” he said. “I want us to be together and I want us to make it work and I want you to be happy and I want me to be happy.”

“That’s what I want, too,” she said.

“So things will change then?” he asked.

“I hope so,” she said. “I’m, I’m willing to try. That’s why I’m here.”

It suddenly sunk in that she was here, that she was all in as she’d said. He didn’t have to lose her ever again, well, probably not anyway. Liz might be able to see the future but he certainly couldn’t, particularly when it came to Maria.

“I never did thank you,” he said, pulling her closer, happy to be able to do that again.

“For coming?” she asked.

“Yes,” he said. “I know what you did for me. I know because I did it. No one else could ever know, Maria. What you did, how hard it is. So thank you.” He brushed her hair back over one shoulder. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome there,” she said, kissing him softly. “A girl likes to be acknowledged every now and then.”

“I’m never going to be some kind of romantic sap,” he warned her.

“Just don’t be mean and don’t ignore me,” she said.

“Well, don’t act like I fail at everything and accept me for who I am without nagging me.”

“I guess that’s a deal,” she said. “So we change for the better?”

“How?” he asked, as that was usually the most confusing part for him.

“Well, honesty,” she said, gesturing between them. “Quality time, maybe a lot more sex.”

He barked a quick laugh and then realized she had a point. After all, sex was when it was easiest to be the most vulnerable and it was usually when they flashed together that he could understand her better and maybe she could feel how much he was trying.

“Sleep first,” he said. “I’m exhausted.”

“I know,” she said, tugging him close to her as she got back on the bed. “I’m tired, too. But then you need to ravish me. Deal?”

“Always,” he promised, putting his head down on the pillow and letting her still damp hair drape across his chest while she snuggled into his side. 

He was too tired to mind that. He had no thoughts towards the future or the past or anything beyond this moment. It was hard to let go of everything, his whole life, the knowledge that he could never go home, that he didn’t even want to. He was no longer a soldier in a war, but he wasn’t a man living a normal life either. Somehow they were melding the two, the alien and the human. Maybe that had been the point all along. Maybe that was his hybrid destiny. Maybe she was. He could handle that because he’d always known it, even when he’d run from it. She was always there just like she was stretched against him now, fitting perfectly. 

He wasn’t usually great at using his powers without breaking something, but he managed to turn off the lights while they situated themselves in the bed and prepared for sleep. Somehow it was easier than it had ever been.

He simply let his mind fade away; secure in the knowledge she was here. That would be enough to start with and like she said, they’d do it together.

**Author's Note:**

> Anyone who knows my writing knows how much I love rehashing the past. This is what Michael and Maria should have been doing for the previous three years, thereby making my life much less tense. Personally, it was also a lot about addressing Maria's actions in S3, which I can't tell you how much Ch-Ch-Changes pissed me off.


End file.
